This essay is based on a talk given at Prescott Insight Meditation by Carol Russell on January 6, 2026.

Once upon a time, an immeasurably long time ago, an ascetic named Sumedho heard that an awakened Buddha named Dipankara was teaching in a nearby village. When Sumedho arrived, he saw a procession of people honoring this enlightened being. He glimpsed Dipankara Buddha and was immediately moved by his ‘noble bearing.’ 

In that moment, Sumedho realized that to become enlightened would be of benefit to the world and he made a vow on the spot to become a Buddha in a future life. And it’s important to note here that he made a vow not just for himself, but for all beings – the Boddhisatva vow. The Boddhisatva vow – to work for the liberation of all beings – is emphasized in the Mahayana tradition, but according to some scholars, has roots in the Theravadan as well.

There was Sumedha on the street – struck by this great being before him. Seeing Dipankara Buddha about to walk through a mud puddle, Sumedho threw himself into the mud so that Dipankara and his sangha could walk over his body rather than get their feet dirty. As the great teacher passed the prone Sumedho, he read Sumedho’s thoughts and aspiration to become a Buddha, and predicted this vow would be realized at ‘a time four incalculables and a hundred thousand eons in the future.’ 

Sumedho traveled back to his cave and wondered. ‘How can I make this vast journey? What aspects of the mind and heart do I need to develop in order to become a Buddha?’ He saw there were ten wholesome qualities that he would need to develop:

Generosity (Dana), Ethics (Sila), Renunciation (Nekkhamma), Wisdom (Pañña), Energy (Viriya), Patience (Khanti), Truthfulness (Sacca), Determination (Adhitthana), Loving-kindness (Metta), and Equanimity (Upekkha)

He then began the journey of innumerable lifetimes to develop the perfections of heart and mind that finally unfolded in his full enlightenment as Gotama Buddha under the bodhi tree in Northern India more than 2500 years ago. 


This is a beautiful parable about the origins of the paramis and how the Buddha made the Ten Paramis a part of his practice over many lifetimes. This story appears in the Sutta Pitaka, which is viewed by scholars to be later additions to the Pali Canon.

One scholar writes that although the Buddha spoke often about these ten qualities, they don’t appear as a list of paramis in the texts that are believed to be the words of the Buddha. And yet, from the early years of Buddhism, the paramis were considered essential elements of the path. It appears likely the list was created by people a few hundred years after the Buddha as they pondered the question, what aspects of the heart and mind will help me make this journey to awakening? 

In the Mahayana branch of Buddhism there are six paramis – often called the paramitas. The paramitas are considered the center of the Mahayana path, even the entire path. Shantideva wrote a classic text about the paramis as an entire path in the 8th c called Guide to the Bodhisattva’s Way. This text is beloved by the Dalai Lama, who wrote a commentary on it called A Flash of Lightning in the Dark of Night.

I find it helpful to have a bit of this history and background of the paramis to deepen my understanding of the importance of these teachings.

An essay adapted from a talk given by Carol Russell on December 2, 2025

I hope you all enjoyed Thanksgiving Day. In many ways it is my favorite holiday. For me, it’s all about getting together with loved ones and giving thanks. I like that there is no exchanging of gifts. For my whole life it has been a strong tradition in my family to gather and spend the day together preparing and enjoying a wonderful meal. The details of the family tradition have evolved over the years, and who is available to get together has changed, but there is a core tradition that has held.

In light of that, I’ve been thinking of the dharma as a tradition. If you were here for Brenda’s talk last week, we went on a journey of how Buddhism has spread through the world over the millennia. She gave an overview of some of the broad differences between the different branches of Buddhism. To last for 2500 years, Buddhism is clearly a strong tradition.

I like to imagine the world the Buddha was born into. It was primarily an agricultural society, which is why we have so many beautiful agrarian similes in the suttas.  The first cities and large kingdoms were being established. Metallurgy had just been discovered. Written language was not widely used for religious or literary purposes. This is a society almost unimaginably different from ours, with our access to world travel, mass communication, information at our fingertips, and a society centered around industry. 
 
A few years ago, Grace Burford and I gave a talk on the evolution of Buddhism, and how, as Buddhism spread from northern India, to virtually all over the world, it has always been influenced and changed by the cultures it found itself in. Some Western scholars of the late 19th and early 20th c had the hubris to believe they could strip Buddhism of all its cultural ‘baggage’ and get to the ‘real’ teaching of the Buddha. This, of course, is impossible, as we now have a better understanding of the fact that one is always influenced by a point of view, a conceptual framework, that comes from the culture we are in. 

An essay adapted from a talk given by Carol Russell, October 7, 2025

We often acknowledge sangha as one of the three jewels, one of the places we can go to for refuge. What does it mean for the sangha to be a refuge – especially when the world around you may feel less safe? Is the sangha a sanctuary, a place blessedly free of outside concerns? A place for finding sympathetic support for practice?  A place for enduring spiritual friendship?  What role does the sangha play if we feel called by our ethical practice to engage with the suffering we see in the world around us? 

The message of these teachings is that it is possible to have a heart free of greed, hatred, and delusion. I find walking this path gives my life a deep sense of meaning – which could be summed up in many ways. One way I have been reflecting on this meaning is that I am developing my heart, I am learning how to love the world. There is depth and breadth to this practice of learning how to love the world. 

What the Buddha taught is a love that is directed unconditionally toward all beings. Not because of how they are, but simply because they are. This is a tall order these days when I am surrounded by news of hateful acts, unimaginable loss, and devastating suffering. 

The media bombards us with suffering. As Diana Clark, one of the teachers on my recent retreat, points out, with our easy access to media, you could easily be in touch with suffering all day. It can be very challenging to be discerning of what we expose ourselves to, what opens our hearts yet doesn’t undermine our sense of our fundamental humanity.

That is why this is a practice, something I feel I must attend to if I wish to learn to love the world. 

From a dharma talk given by Kenn Duncan, Sept. 23, 2025

So let’s start this talk with a short common definition of engaged buddhism, or sometimes you’ll hear socially engaged buddhism: in general the term references the movement of applying Buddhist solutions or teachings, or practice to social, political and ecological problems. 

Definition of this action was sort of acknowledged and further developed in the latter half of the 20th century. The actual term engaged buddhism is credited to the Vietnamese Zen Monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, he sort of coined it to describe his and others work to try and bring about peace during a time of great turmoil and war in his home country. 

So the concept of engaged Buddhism is to lower suffering and oppression of all beings through the transformation of unjust and repressive social and political constructs, while not losing sight of the emphasis on inward spiritual growth. 
The Buddha’s teachings guide us to study our own human experience so that we can develop the wisdom that brings liberation from suffering and manifests lovingkindness and compassion toward other beings and their suffering.                       
So engaged buddhism might (as Thich Nhat Hanh says) just be buddhism, buddhism we bring off the cushion and into the world in the form of social service, working with those who are suffering, working on programs that emphasis compassion, engaging in helpful professions or just simply bringing mindfulness into our daily lives and to those around us.

Carol pointed out the importance of idea of interdependence in Buddhism in her talk last week (everything being connected) and this made me think that this interdependence is a key aspect in the suffering we see in the world. 

It’s possible to suffer as a result of social conditions or natural circumstances like poverty, injustice, oppression, natural disaster and other conditions that might arise in a collective way, one thing affecting another, one person affecting another. So if this, than dukkha/suffering does need to be addressed also in a collective way to remove these conditions for all beings in our worlds.

This can feel daunting and overwhelming if we start to look at the weight and the extent of all the suffering of even just ourselves, much less the entire world.  So how do we take our practice off the cushion and into the world and will it make a difference? (The other internal battle, can I, will I make a difference?) I truly believe the answer is yes. 

by Carol Russell
An essay adapted from a Dhamma talk given September 9, 2025

This talk is based on the Fifth invitation from the book, The Five Invitations, Discovering What Death Can Teach Us About Living Fully by Frank Ostaseski. I’ve been using each invitation as an inspiration for an exploration about the Dhamma. 

‘Don’t know mind’ is a very Zen expression. Don’t know mind, beginner’s mind. Suzuki Roshi wrote a book called Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind. He famously said, ‘In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s mind there are few.’

That is a quote I have had hanging in my studio for years. It helps me as an artist to remember not to be too certain, not to think I know how a piece will be when it is finished. Sure, I have a vision and I make use of all my skill, but if I also have a beginner’s mind, then I’m open to where a piece might want to go. There’s magic in that and it shows in how often a painting will end up surprising and delighting me. Alternately, if I cling to some image of how it should be and I end up struggling to achieve that vision, the process is often much less enjoyable. 

I’ll mention what don’t know mind is not. Don’t know mind isn’t ignorance. Like many of you, I value my education, my training, my experience. I value learning through my life experiences and putting my knowledge and learning into practice. 

 Frank Ostaseski writes that ‘ignorance is usually thought of as the absence of information, being unaware. Sadly, it is more that just ‘not knowing.’ It means that we know something, but it is the wrong thing. Ignorance is misperception.’

He goes on to offer this beautiful definition of don’t know mind: 

by Carol Russell
An essay adapted from a Dhamma talk given August 5, 2025.

Welcome everyone. The title of this talk is the fourth invitation from the book, The Five Invitations, Discovering What Death Can Teach Us About Living Fully. I’ve been using each invitation as inspiration for a talk. If you’re interested in the subject, do seek out the book – I know some of you have. I have been taking each invitation as an inspiration and making it my own, but there is more in the book, plus many stories from the author’s work in hospice.

The title of this invitation - Find a Place of Rest in the Middle of Things – I find brings on a kind of settling, a quieting, a peacefulness. 

There are many reasons we are practitioners of insight meditation or another spiritual or mindfulness practice. Some of our reasons may be conscious, some based on unquestioned assumptions. Yet, I would dare to guess that the desire to have the skills to find a place of rest, to have experiences of peace, in the midst of our lives is something most of us share. I know it’s on my list. Raise your hand if it’s on yours.

What is rest? For me, after a busy and active day, it feels so good to come home and rest. Or when I go camping in nature or stay in a cabin on a creek, it is restful to be away from the tasks and projects I have in Prescott. Or when a big task is completed – ‘now I can rest and enjoy myself,’ I think. And I do. It’s rejuvenating to complete things. 

I also find it really useful to consider, what is the assumption behind these thoughts?  Am I imagining that rest is about changing circumstances? Is rest something that’s only available once everything else is complete? If that is the case, moments of rest will be few and far between – a kind of singular event in the midst of life – or maybe out of reach.

What if a place a rest is within, available most any time, and not dependent on getting the right conditions arranged? What if this place of rest is a reliable part of life?

by Carol Russell
Adapted from a talk given at Tuesday night meditation on July 1, 2025

This talk is based on the third invitation in Frank Ostaseski’s book, The Five Invitations: Discovering What Death Can Teach Us About Living Fully. This is the third talk in this exploration of the book in which I have been using each invitation as a stepping off point for an exploration of the Dhamma.

The invitation here is to bring your whole self to the experience of life. The author writes beautifully about how this applies to the processes of dying and death, whether yours or someone you love, and how it applies to grief. Most certainly, in light of the subtitle of the book, this invitation applies to bringing our whole self to each day of life, to each moment.  This is an encouragement to include the parts of ourselves that don’t look good, or reveal we don’t have it all together.

In a way you could think of the last talk I gave, Welcome Everything, Push Away Nothing, as how we receive the circumstances of life, how we open to what is coming in. This talk is an exploration of what we bring to the circumstance arising in life. the invitation is to bring our whole selves to our experience.

Frank Ostaseski writes:
"…more than once I have found an undesirable aspect of myself, one about which I had previously felt ashamed and kept tucked away, to be the very quality that allowed me to meet another person’s suffering with compassion instead of fear or pity… It is not our expertise, but rather the wisdom gained from our own suffering, vulnerability, and healing that enables us to be of real assistance to others."

by Carol Russell
Adapted from a talk given at Prescott Insight Meditation on May 6, 2025

My Mom died three weeks ago. She died the way she lived, with a good measure of love, and honesty, acceptance, and a sense of wonder. Not that it was easy. Death is hard work. Accompanying her on this journey – from 11 years ago when she had her first stroke to the final week when she took to her bed – has been a priceless honor. Although we miss her very much, how she died is a profound part of the gift she leaves her family and the people who cared for her.

What does death have to offer those of us left behind? What does death have to offer the living? Death has the potential to inform us – and to transform us. Some of us have had death touch us recently, as I have, or we are aging and feeling it, or we have a diagnosis that makes death a little more tangible. But really, we are all on the edge of death. How many of us think death will happen later – sometime in the distant future? The truth is death can come any moment. If not us imminently, it could be someone we love very much.

This is what the Dhamma teaches us. The Buddha encouraged this kind of reflection, conceptually and experientially, not as a theoretical idea, but to touch into the reality of change and endings, life and death. This kind of study penetrates to the level that it penetrates for each of us, perhaps touching us more profoundly as our practice deepens.

Foundational to our mindfulness practice is the question we can bring to whatever is arising in our lives: what is my relationship to it? What is my relationship to dying and death? Maybe we recoil. Maybe we’re curious. Some face the truth of the end of life with a comforting story of something beyond. Perhaps we have decided we will think about death when we are older. Our relationship to death is very personal.

by Mark Donovan
From a talk given at Prescott Insight Meditation, April 8, 2025

Tonight I’d like to explore anger - understanding it with a little more nuance.  What is anger? What is anger for each of us? I’ll offer some reflections.  Is it good or bad? And how do we practice with it - the other important question.

This talk is inspired by a recent experience I had with a work colleague where I  reacted with anger to a perception that this person was dissembling about their understanding of current events.  I had regrets about my reaction, apologized, and we have since repaired the relationship.  However, the intensity of my emotion scared me, so I met with a counselor to explore what happened.  He helped me to see that underneath the anger was a lot of fear related to my perceptions: the undermining of democratic norms,  public health, national security, bullying and alienating longtime geopolitical allies, nihilistic destruction of government from a president I view as having an appetite for unlimited power.

In my previous role as an occupational therapist I facilitated anger management groups at the Albuquerque VA, a common “problem” emotion for persons with PTSD and hyperarousal, overactivation of the sympathetic nervous system.  Excessive anger can cause health problems and relational problems.

This talk includes material and insights from Zohar Lavie of Gaia House and Donald Rothberg who teaches at Spirit Roth.  Both of them suggest that this is a really important and underexplored topic in western Buddhism today –that western Buddhists have a lot of confusion about anger.  An important topic for our times and the interplay between our practice and present social realities.  Rothberg notes the core teaching of dependent origination in which it’s said if we’re not mindful of what’s difficult and painful, and when we’re organized by habitual tendencies, we go into reactivity, we use various ways to push away pain including being judgmental, rigid, having views.  Anger can quickly go into negative views about others and about ourselves.  He notes how many people in the US harbor anger, maybe it’s about economic hardship or confusion about changing gender roles, and when people don’t skillfully work with their pain it’s easy to manipulate them–whether we call it scapegoating, divide and conquer, whatever.  

by Brenda Frechette
A dharma talk given February 18, 2025

(As you may know, I don’t usually write out my talks, but I did get some requests for info on what I discussed on Feb 18, so I recreated it in writing.  A bit more pedantic than when I talk, but hopefully helpful!)

I’ve been in Nepal and India for the last month and just got back a week ago.  I’ll talk about that some in this talk, but I first want to acknowledge that I’ve been feeling that the world is chaotic and uncertain right now.  I stayed in touch with what was happening in the news by reading the New York Times but last night I watched the news on tv!  Perhaps seeing and hearing it through another’s tone and reaction resulted in me feeling even more anxious…so I wanted to own that and talk about how my meditation practice helps me to manage anxiety around things I don’t feel comfortable with and am unable to control. I also want to note that we make an effort in this sangha to welcome all opinions and views—but I think we do find common ground in wanting to react to distress with compassion and kindness.

Acknowledging helpfulness of Centering and prayer—and action: Following is a Thich Naht Hahn story about the Vietnamese boat people fleeing Vietnam by sea after the Vietnam War ended in 1975:

"When the crowded Vietnamese refugee boats met with storms or pirates, if everyone panicked, all would be lost. But if even one person remained centered and calm on the boat, they showed the way for everyone else to survive.”

I came across this lovely Jewish prayer recently that I found supports me in keeping grounded and not falling into crippling despair when I view the chaos in the world.  I like how it emphasizes staying centered in the storm so one has both the capacity to not turn away from difficulty and choose right action when appropriate.  It follows:

Perhaps
for a moment…
A hush will fall over the land.
For an instant, in the stillness
The chiming of the celestial spheres will be heard
As earth hangs poised
in the crystalline darkness, and then
gracefully
tilts.
 
Stunned to stillness by beauty
We remember who we are and why we are here.
There are inexplicable mysteries.
We are not alone.
The cosmos enfolds us.
We are caught in a web of stars,
Cradled in a swaying embrace,
Rocked by the night
In the unceasing rhythm of the Universe
From darkness towards light.
 
(Adapted from Rebecca Ann Parker's poem Winter Solstice)

by Mark Donovan
A dharma talk given December 17, 2024

Tonight I’d like to explore our practice through a lens of courage.  Courage — from the French word, coeur, heart. Recent talks by our group of teachers have explored the experience of uncertainty that is arising for many of us in these times of rapid change — and how uncertainty can seed a sense of danger and feelings of fear.  Fear is an afflictive emotion, some say the root of the three poisons: clinging, aversion, and delusion.  In Brian Lesage’s talk on uncertainty, he pointed to how fear can be constricting when it gets the upper hand — when we avoid and withdraw into a protective stance, life gets cramped and small.  As the writer Elena Ferrante puts it in one of her novels:
Everything in the world is in precarious balance, pure risk, and those who don’t agree to take the risk waste away in a corner, without getting to know life.”

Ken, Brenda and Carol all suggested how challenging it can be for us to hang out in a place of groundlessness, of not knowing.  Our nervous systems evolved to keep us safe and to find security in the predictable; we want answers to our questions but may have to wait patiently for them to be revealed in their own time.  We might say that learning to be more comfortable with uncertainty is exactly what this practice is all about.  Pema Chodron’s teachings are all about this.  Just listen to her book titles : The Places That Scare You, When Things Fall Apart, Comfortable With Uncertainty, The Wisdom of No Escape.  Last week Carol suggested another response to uncertainty, one of opening to the mystery and wonder of life as it arises moment–by-moment, perhaps a continuation of her talk on improvisation, of responding to whatever life may present to us with, “Yes, and…” as we join in the dance.

Courage is a quality that feels important and useful for facing the challenges of uncertainty and change.  Courage is not a quality that appears on any of the Theravadin Buddhist lists.  It is not one of the 37 awakening or liberating qualities.  But although it is given little status on its own in the scriptural writings, I believe it is a quality that we manifest often in many different ways in our practice — this practice that aims at the unshakeable release of the heart, the coeur.

In its earliest forms, courage meant "to speak one's mind by telling all one's heart".  Heart and mind together.  To me this sounds a lot like the meaning of the Pali word citta, which refers to the heart-mind, not separate but one.  Merriam Webster defines courage as mental or moral strength to venture, persevere and withstand danger, fear or difficulty.  Another definition includes a quality of spirit — spiritual strength.  So we can think of  courage as mental, moral and spiritual strength to persevere in the face of fear, danger and difficulty.

by Kenn Duncan
A dharma talk given December 3, 2024

As we fast approach the end of yet another year, there is a lot of contentiousness, and division in our world. And along with that, a lot of worry or insecurity about our future, depending on your outlook. Politically, socially, environmentally, many of us find the direction of our world filled with uncertainty.

This storm, this deluge, can flood us with emotions. I have many friends who are questioning everything, and really want to know answers now. It’s said that when asked questions about enlightenment, or what happens after death, or, or, or… Ajahn Chah would smile and say “It’s uncertain, isn’t it?”

I was remembering the uncertainty we all faced just a few years back with the pandemic and how it became an opportunity for us to befriend our fears, be compassionate with them, and radiate this compassion to those around us. And many people did just that, and many of us have this opportunity once more.

We can only work with and make decisions in this moment, only with the information that we know and understand. We have to let go of the worry of what could be or what might happen. The world is changing around us, always has been, always will be and it can be a little scary for us all.

by Kenn Duncan
A dharma talk given November 26, 2024

We have this holiday coming this week, something I’m reminded constantly by my good friends from England that we only celebrate here in the U.S.  It’s a bit of a strange holiday when you trace it’s origins, and it’s become a time when some people do take the time to stop (just before the deluge of the next holiday, Christmas, and all that brings) and share thankfulness, gratitude.

I like the name of this holiday — Thanksgiving — because it sort of holds the idea of both giving and receiving. 'Thanks' and 'Giving' carry this sort of wonderful mutuality of giving and receiving. It's an expression of appreciation and even an expression of kindness, to give thanks and to be thanked.

There's a story about Siddhartha Buddha, after he was enlightened, that he spent a lot of time gazing day and night the Bodhi tree under which he was enlightened, in gratitude of the tree. The protection and the support it gave him for this amazing experience of freedom and presence that he discovered. The Buddha didn't teach much about gratitude specifically, but it is said that he made the statement that no one is injured in feeling gratitude. This idea that no one is injured, that you won't be injured in feeling gratitude is a wonderful thought.

I started something with my daughter when she was little, especially after a rough day. After she would share her difficulties or struggles, I’d ask her to share something that may have happened that she was happy or grateful for.  In a short time we’d just start sharing with each other things we were grateful for pretty much every day.  
I’ve taken this with me to this day. At the end of the day, usually my final meditation includes a run down of all the things that may have happened that lifted me up, or made me smile, or made me feel good or grateful.  The idea of doing this is not to do it forcefully or pretend things are better than they are. The idea is to really reflect on what we genuinely appreciate.

By Rev. Dr. Grace G. Burford
Quad City Interfaith Council annual Celebration of Thanks
Nov. 21, 2024


One time a student asked her Zen teacher, “What is the gate of Zen?”
The teacher replied, “Generosity.”

The early Buddhist scriptures are full of accounts of the Buddha teaching his followers about giving [dāna]. He teaches them when, where, what, and how to give, so that the giving benefits the giver as well as the receiver. For example, he says one who gives beneficially is “joyful before giving”; “has a calm, confident mind in the act of giving”; and “is elated after giving.” [Anguttara Nikāya III, 336]

Why is giving so important in Buddhist practice?

To give something, we have to let go of it. It’s not really giving if we give and then try hold on to what we gave.

This connection between giving and letting go is embedded in the early Buddhist word for generosity [cāga]. This term has two meanings: in some contexts, it refers to the attitude that leads us to give, in other words, what we would call “generosity.” In other places, it means to “let go.” Letting go of clinging to things and people and experiences—to anything, really—is a central aim of Buddhist practice, because clinging leads to suffering for ourselves and others.

So, for Buddhist practitioners, giving beneficially and often, cultivating generosity, contributes directly to the reduction of suffering for all.

Just as we can enter through a gate, we can also go out through it. We enter the gate of spiritual practice by being generous, and we emerge back out into the world being generous.

May we spread generosity to all beings as we move through the world.
May all beings be put at ease by our generosity.
May all beings feel safe in our generosity.
May all beings be happy, experiencing our generosity.



Rev. Dr. Grace G. Burford

Quad City Interfaith Council annual Celebration of Thanks

Nov. 21, 2024

by Carol Russell
This essay is adapted from a talk given at the Tuesday night sangha gathering on November 12, 2024

I want to begin by acknowledging the deep feelings many people are experiencing right now as our country has just gone through an intense election season, whether or not the results went the way you were hoping. You may be experiencing fear, worry, anger, or despair, or you might be feeling relief and gladness.

Tonight, we will be exploring the states of expansion and contraction. I am using the term openness alongside expansion, since it captures a certain quality that is important. First, we will look at what might each of these experiences be. How are they valuable? And then we will explore how they work together. It is my hope that spending some time broadening our understanding of these two qualities that are part of our human experience might bring some understanding and solace for the times we are in.

Contraction

One view of contraction is the experience we have when we are living in own narrow view of life. We are up in our head ruminating on our own little world. It can feel like we have fallen in a well; that contracted feeling is our own personal well. It is constricted and isolated. There’s a little patch of light up there, but it casts a dim light. It becomes so normal to us to live within this narrow view that we don’t realize we are in it. This is all so very human.

As practitioners of mindfulness, we begin to have a different experience. There’s a quality of mindfulness that allows us to take a step back and open to a broader view. In our mindfulness practice, we find there is a kind of back and forth, from softness, openness, and expansiveness to being lost in a story where all there is in the experience of the story and all its papancca or proliferation, as the story spins out in our minds, and then back to the open state of being mindful. This back and forth can be very revealing about the possibilities of our own mind.

by Kenn Duncan
A dharma talk given April, 2024

A practice mostly known from the Zen tradition, but making its way into the western practices, is the practice of not knowing. A not-knowing mind, or sometimes referred to as a beginner’s mind.

It is the mind that is innocent of preconceptions and expectations, judgments and prejudices. A mind that is just present to explore and observe and see “things as they are.” It’s kind of like facing life like a small child, full of curiosity and wonder and amazement. “I wonder what this is? I wonder what that is? I wonder what this means?” Without approaching things with a fixed point of view or a prior judgment, just asking “What is it?”

I heard notes of this practice first from Gil Fronsdal, and explored a little bit some of the teachings of Zen Master Suzuki Roshi, but dug deeper a few years back after a Frank Turner concert.

Frank Turner:
“Today’s day and age and with all the new social media craze - we spend a lot of time disagreeing with each other and holding our ground no matter what we really know or don’t know…"
He suggests that we try using this expression “I don’t know”…  “as we get older we start to realize that we don’t really know anything about anything and neither does anybody else.” 
Secondarily, “I’ve changed my mind”, letting go of what we think we know to open ourselves up to a new understanding or way of thinking. 

“Take a Breath, try these for size…I don’t know, I’ve changed my mind, between life and death we’ll find the time to get it right”.
– Frank Turner from “Get It Right”

Suzuki Roshi notes in his book Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, in the expert’s there are few.”

Not knowing, we meet our experience with a mind that simply doesn’t know, that is open to possibility, that has some wonder, that is not demanding a situation to be a certain way or a person to be a certain way, not requiring ourselves to be a certain way, not putting limits on things, not contracting with our thoughts. A not-knowing mind can be relaxed with how things are, and is spacious and relaxed.

by Carol Russell
A dharma talk given May 21, 2024

This is something I have been considering lately.  The Buddha seemed very interested in working with what it is to be a human being. After he encountered the four sights as a young man (old age, sickness, death, and an ascetic person), what he saw sent him on his spiritual search After his ascetic phase, in which he had so mortified his body he nearly starved himself, he realized this way of denial was not leading to the end of suffering. In his realization, he no longer sought to transcend the human body. The teachings he brought forth recognize humanness, the human condition. After his liberation, he brought his teachings right into this conventional everyday muddled human life. He illuminated the middle way as a way to liberation from dissatisfaction: not indulging and not denying.

We eat, so instead of getting rid of eating, which didn’t go well for him, he brought in teachings around eating. Teachings we now have of self-care, of non-harming, of mindful eating.

He recommended we seek out quiet spaces to practice. But instead of insisting on total silence, and having aversion to the inevitable noise, he taught how to incorporate sound into practice. Through this we learn that nothing is outside of mindfulness.

Humans are talkers, so he made recommendations for how speech might be used that is mindful and appropriate to the situation. This is the subject of tonight’s talk. Wise speech.

In fact, mindful speech holds a prominent place in these teachings. This is surely a reflection of how important the Buddha regarded communication. In the Noble Eightfold Path teachings, a wholistic practical summary of the path, wise speech is singled out as one of the eight keys of practice leading to liberation. Wise speech gets its very own place

By Carol Russell
A dharma talk given April 2, 2024

From Anguttara Nikaya Sutta 9.3 With Meghiya

[In February I was on a week-long retreat with Brian Lesage & Diana Clark. Over five of the retreat days, they gave five dharma talks that corresponded to this teaching. Some of this talk comes from my notes from that retreat, some from my own thoughts.]

The story of Meghiya begins as many Buddhist stories do: so I have heard.

The Buddha is staying near Calika. Meghiya was the Buddha’s attendant. One day Meghiya goes up to the Buddha and asks to go to the nearby village for alms. The Buddha agrees.

So, in the morning, Meghiya robes up, takes his bowl, and goes for almsround. On his way back, he walks along the shore of the river and comes upon a mango grove. He thinks:

“Oh, this mango grove is lovely and delightful! This is good enough for striving for someone wanting to strive. If the Buddha allows me, I’ll come back to this mango grove to meditate.”

When he got back to the Buddha, Meghiya asks if he can go to the mango grove to meditate. The Buddha asks him to wait, since there’s no one else there to help out. He asks that Meghiya wait until someone else shows up to take Meghiya’s place.

A bit later, Meghiya is impatient and says, Hey, there’s nothing else to do. How about now? Can I go to the mango grove to meditate? Again, the Buddha says, We’re alone Meghiya. Wait until someone else comes.

A third time Meghiya asks: “Sir, the Buddha has nothing more to do, and nothing that needs improvement. But I have. If you allow me, I’ll go back to that mango grove to meditate.” The Buddha says, “Meghiya, since you speak of meditation, what can I say? Please, Meghiya, go at your convenience.”

Meghiya goes to the mango grove, plunges deep into it, and sits down at the root of a tree for the day’s meditation. But while he is meditating, he is beset by three kinds of bad, unskillful thoughts, namely, sensual, malicious, and cruel thoughts.